


The New and the Old

by StrictlyNoFrills



Series: P.E.I. (AKA That Polar Series Where Everything is Soft and Nothing Hurts) [2]
Category: Roswell (TV 1999)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Thanksgiving, polar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrictlyNoFrills/pseuds/StrictlyNoFrills
Summary: Two different Thanksgivings after the pod squad goes on the run.
Relationships: Liz Parker/Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Liz Parker
Series: P.E.I. (AKA That Polar Series Where Everything is Soft and Nothing Hurts) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1482602
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The New and the Old

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to all my American readers! And Happy Friday Eve to all my readers in foreign countries! :)

The first Thanksgiving away from Roswell, they take a risk and have dinner all together at the Denny's in the little podunk town in Louisiana where they've decided to test out renting a place. It's nice to have a bit of stability instead of living out of their van, even if the little two-bedroom apartment is still pretty cramped.

One of the best things about their apartment is the fact that they have a kitchen. It may be small, but it's fully functional, so it's not as though they couldn't have put together a meal themselves - Liz and Michael are both capable in the kitchen - but neither of them are feeling particularly keen on cooking for the whole group at the moment. Max has been in a funk ever since Liz returned his ring, Isabel is frostier and frostier the longer they are away from Mr. and Mrs. Evans, Kyle is as sweet as ever but he focuses most of his energy on keeping Isabel from disappearing into herself completely, and Maria's discontentment with their situation grows louder and more unbearable by the day. (Liz gets it. Nobody is happy. And she adores her best friend. But out of all of them, she definitely had a choice between coming and staying behind, and she chose to come with them, so if Maria is miserable, she really only has herself to blame.) All of that negative energy sort of sucks the joy out of planning and putting together a fancy dinner, so they simply opt out.

The meal at the diner is cheap and the conversation is subdued; they're all missing home especially badly today. All save Michael, who tends towards laconic on the best of days.

Liz pushes cranberry sauce and the remnants of her slices of turkey around her plate, feeling listless and more than a little lost. 

If she were at home right now, she would be helping her parents put up the Christmas tree in their living room and then, after drinking some hot chocolate, they would all troop downstairs to the Crash and begin decorating the diner for the upcoming holiday.

Idly, she reaches into her front right pocket and thumbs the little bit of petty cash she has left over from the tips she's received from her job at Red's, the local bar and grill. Could she afford to buy a few things to spruce up the apartment they're living in and still have a little left over? Or would decorations clear her out completely?

Maria nudges her. "Whatcha thinkin', chica?"

She takes her hand out of her jean pocket and tilts her head at her best friend, quirking a lop-sided grin, which is about all she can manage at the moment. "I'm thinking about ordering some pie."

Maria nods. "It won't be as good as my mom's, but yeah. We should do it. What's Thanksgiving without pie?"

What's Thanksgiving without family? Liz wonders to herself, though all she says is, "What, indeed?"

Later on, when they all wander sleepily into the apartment, full and reasonably content, Liz remembers that she has three alien hybrids on hand, one of whom is incredibly invested in enjoying the full Christmas experience.

She rolls over in her sleeping bag that night and whispers to Isabel, "Hey, Isabel, are you still awake?"

Isabel sighs. "Why? Is something wrong?"

Liz has known Isabel far too long to be put off by her frequently frigid attitude. "No, nothing's wrong. I just thought you might like to help me decorate the apartment for Christmas tomorrow."

Their room is silent for a moment, save for the sound of Maria's light snoring on Liz's other side. Then, Isabel says, "Alright."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, let's do it."

It's the most excited Isabel has sounded about anything since this chapter of their lives started.

Liz goes to sleep feeling thankful to finally have something to draw Isabel out of herself.

* * *

The first Thanksgiving on PEI, Liz feels as though she is on a covert mission whilst buying supplies at the grocery store, because it's Thanksgiving to her and to Michael, but to the thousands of Canadians around them, it most definitely isn't.

She realizes that no one is going to scrutinize the contents of her grocery cart, but there's still a furtive energy to everything she does, from picking out a pecan pie which she intends to spice up on one side with a chocolate ancho chili ganache, to buying a small roasted chicken in lieu of a turkey, because there is no way the two of them alone could eat their way through a turkey before it had time to go bad.

Buying cranberry sauce feels like holding up a giant sign saying, "American Fugitive!" but she's had cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving every year since she was able to eat table food, and she is not about to stop now.

She eyes the brussels sprouts in serious contemplation for a good, long while. Her mother would want her to make them. It's a Parker family tradition.

Eventually, she turns away and buys green beans instead. She didn't have brussels sprouts last year. The tradition has already been broken. 

And she's actually pretty happy to let go of that one.

Thankfully, no one takes one look at her groceries when she reaches check out and shouts, "Imposter!" and she makes it home without incident, though she still feels hunted all the way back to the apartment.

Liz? Paranoid? Of course not. 

After all, don't they say it's not paranoia if they're really out to get you?

On the actual day, she almost burns the rolls, she forgets to make the mashed potatoes until the last minute and has to scramble to get them done before Michael gets home from his shift at the garage where he works, and she's never cut up a butternut squash prior to today, nor will she ever be foolish enough to attempt it again in the years that follow. This is a disaster. No wonder her mother had never attempted to make anything with the obnoxious gourd. Serves Liz right for trying to get fancy.

Michael comes home to the sight of Liz trying to avoid getting her tears of frustration and homesickness mixed into the potatoes she is almost done mashing.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Michael asks, nudging her out of the way to take over.

"No," Liz mumbles, "or - maybe. I might have pulled a muscle trying to cut into that stupid squash earlier." She snuffles and scrubs at her teary cheeks. "What a nightmare."

He eyes her for a beat and then nods towards the table. "Sit down, Parker. I've got it from here."

"But I wanted to -" He'd offered to help her with the cooking for Thanksgiving, or even to just skip it altogether, since it would be just the two of them this year, but Liz had been adamant that she wanted to cook a Thanksgiving dinner for them. Their first as their own little family. Michael had given in, but she remembers now how reluctant he had been about letting her do all the work, and she thinks that maybe now she gets it.

He sets the masher down in the bowl and turns to cup her cheek with his large, calloused hand. "I know. But you did all the hard parts. There's really not a whole lot more to do. I can take it from here."

With a sigh, Liz takes off her apron and hangs it on the little hook. After that, she plods over to their tiny dining table and collapses into her seat. 

She rests her chin on her hands and watches Michael wrap up the meal, using a little bit of an alien touch to speed things along with the butternut squash, because otherwise, there's no way it would have been ready along with the rest of the food. It'll make the texture slightly off, but the flavor should still be pretty good, and at this point, Liz is too worn out to care.

Their little table groans under the weight of everything they put together, and Liz can't even muster up the energy to be sad about the fact that she didn't manage it all by herself as she spoons some green bean casserole onto her plate and listens to Michael talk about his morning.

The look on Michael's face when he takes his first bite of the pecan pie with that spicy ganache makes Liz's day.

She grins at the happy noise the comes out of his mouth as he goes for his second bite.

"Should I make that a yearly thing, then?"

He gives her an eloquent look that screams, 'What do you think?' and Liz feels warm all the way down to her toes.

She falls asleep that night feeling especially thankful for Michael, and for the traditions they are starting to create as they eke out this new life of theirs and make PEI their home.


End file.
